A Part of Me
by mandagrammy1
Summary: Agron has developed a firm friendship with Nasir, but it is only when he is parted from the young Syrian (and there is the very strong chance the young man could be killed) that he begins to realize there is more to their relationship than that. How his newfound feelings affect them both, and how it changes things between them, is revealed in thought and deed.


A Part of Me

Agron, the tall German gladiator who served as Spartacus's right-hand man from the moment they made their escape from the ludus of Batitatus, was uneasy. He had been so almost from the moment he parted ways with Spartacus, even though he wished it to be a temporary separation. The problem was that despite his hope of seeing them again, he didn't have much faith in it happening. It was the primary reason he had refused to go along with their insane plans to rescue Naevia, Crixus's lover, from the mines. He knew enough about the mines to know that if she still lived, there would be little left of her physically. She was probably dead already from her forced labor. And that didn't take into account her mental state after being whored out from one villa to another before being sent to the mines. He also knew that no attempt at escape from the mines had ever succeeded in the past. They were too heavily guarded. He had not freed himself from the ludus just to commit suicide.

None of what he considered to be reasonable reasons for choosing not to follow Spartacus seemed to ease his discomfort. Why did that fucking Syrian, Nasir, have to pass on his true knowledge of Naevia's fate to Crixus, he asked himself again for the tenth time? What frustrated him even more than Nasir betraying their confidence was that he found himself admiring the young man's honesty. And yet, his honesty was most likely going to get him killed. When Agron thought of that possibility, he felt an odd ache in his chest. It was akin to the pain he felt when he watched his little brother, Duro, fall to the blade of a Roman guard at the ludus. It was strange that he should feel this way. After all, they were no more than friends...good friends. But then, why wasn't he as concerned for the others who he also thought of as friends, save for the fucking Gauls, of course. Why were his thoughts turning to Nasir so often?

It had been several days since the rebels had separated and Agron was feeling restless. He and his followers had not yet found what they were looking for...a safe place to settle in to avoid any Roman soldiers or mercenaries hunting for them. They had not yet reached the base of Mount Vesuvius, a prime spot for what they hoped would become home base...a safe place to depart from on raids to add to their numbers and confiscate needed supplies. He knew they were close to their goal, but the farther they got into the thick forest near the mountain, the more anxious Agron felt. He slept restlessly along with his companions this night, dreams disturbing his rest more than once, yet always waking with no memory of what haunted him. Finally, as the early morning sun prepared to lift the night's fog, Agron decided it was time to turn back and try to find Spartacus and those who followed him, especially Nasir. Somehow, that little man had managed to crawl inside Agron's head and he knew he'd find no peace until he saw his face again, alive and well.

With that thought in mind, he gave his followers orders to turn back. They melted into the forest, keeping a sharp ear and eagle eye on their surroundings. They moved through the trees, not always in total silence. The fog had not yet vanished entirely when they heard a slight sound of movement close by. Praying that the sound was not coming from a band of Romans, they pressed forward in the direction the noise came from. Suddenly they broke through the misty air. Agron's face burst into a grin. He saw two figures standing close together, weapons at the ready. One was Spartacus, the other Mira. He rushed towards them, obvious relief on his face...but as he approached, he realized that Nasir was nowhere to be seen. His heart lurched inside his chest. He felt sick to his stomach.

As he reached out his hand to clasp Spartacus's shoulder in greeting, he saw two more figures nearby under a tall tree. He recognized the long dark hair of Nasir, his head fallen to his chest with his back resting against the thick trunk. He barely recognized the dirt and blood-encrusted woman squatting next to Nasir. He hurried over to them. When she looked up, Agron realized it was Naevia, or what was left of her, staring up at him. But Agron's only concern at that moment was Nasir. He held his breath as he leaned down and lifted the young man's chin.

Nasir was pale...too damned pale for one of such dark complexion. Agron felt fear course through his veins. It was then that Nasir opened his eyes slightly and gave Agron a tiny hint of a smile. His head then dropped back down again. He had been conscious for less than a minute. His all too brief smile was in response to seeing Agron's face. In that brief instant, Agron's heart lifted and yet the fear lingered. Nasir was still among the living, although it was obvious he was barely holding onto his life by a tenuous thread.

Mira approached Agron, quickly informing him of the grievous wound Nasir suffered during their escape. Agron felt a surge of anger, part of it aimed at the Roman who struck Nasir down...but a large part of his anger was directed at himself. If he had chosen to support Spartacus's desire to rescue Naevia, as promised to Crixus from the beginning of their rebellion, then Nasir might not find his life in jeopardy now. If Nasir died, Agron sensed it would be a blow every bit as devastating as the loss of Duro. Feeling this way about Nasir made one thing very clear for Agron...much clearer than it had been during all the countless hours they spent together in the past. What he knew now was that Nasir was more than just a good friend. Agron had spent time with other men in the past, but he had never felt anything like this. Agron was in love.

Agron kept a close watch on Nasir the entire time the small band of rebels made their way carefully through the forest on their way to the base of Mount Vesuvius. Scouts had been sent ahead to try and locate an ideal place to set up a permanent camp. They needed a home base from which to strike out and then return safely to regroup. The plan was to build up their pitifully small group of ex-slaves and gladiators into a true fighting army with a real chance of striking fear into their Roman oppressors. Agron was in complete support of anything Spartacus chose to do from now on. The moment he set eyes on the pitiful remnant of survivors after he had failed to join in on Spartacus's previous plans, including the badly injured young Syrian, he made up his mind never to question any wild schemes the man came up with again.

Agron's anxiety over Nasir's worsening condition was driving him to distraction. Added to that was his sense of guilt over parting ways with Spartacus. Despite assurances by Spartacus that there was no ill will over the deed, Agron was conflicted. Many good men, including the fucking Gaul, Crixus, were now lost to them. Just as his patience in finding a secure place to tend to Nasir was about to run out, their scouts came running back with good news. A dilapidated old building was spotted at the very base of the mountain they could see rising in the distance. Spartacus and Agron, along with the scouts, left the main group behind in order to check out the safety of this strange place.

Once they reached it, they could see that it once stood as a temple rather than a villa. Once, but certainly no longer. The place barely had a roof still intact and was half in ruins. Silence permeated the entire enclosure inside the stone walls surrounding the building. Spartacus felt safe in assuming the temple was completely deserted and sent one of his men out to bring the others back to the place. It was only moments after he sent the other two scouts into the interior of the temple to check for anything of value that might have been left behind by the previous owners that he discovered he had mistaken its occupancy. As he and Agron were discussing their finding, an old man suddenly appeared from the bowels of the main hall with arrow drawn, pointed straight at Spartacus.

The old man's threat to end their futures was met seconds later by the two men that Spartacus had sent to inspect the place as they came up behind him. The old man was wise enough to know that he was in a losing position but still had fight in him...that is until Agron spoke Spartacus's name. In a blink of an eye, the old man dropped his bow and welcomed the strangers. After leading Spartacus and Agron to his private chambers and offering them wine, he explained why he was pleased to see them despite being a Roman. His name was Lucius, he explained, and once came from a noble and wealthy family. The great General Sulla, out of greed, had used his power to divest Lucius of all he owned, destroying his family. All Lucius had left was the decaying temple that no one visited any longer. He blamed the Roman Republic for his losses and was happy to see anyone who would make their life Hell.

Immediately after telling his tale, he informed Spartacus that he was surprised to see him, having heard in the marketplace of the capture of a number of Spartacus's men after an assault on the mines. He then told them that those very same men, including one known as the undefeated Gaul, were to be executed in the arena of Capua the very next day. Before more could be said, the other rebels arrived. Spartacus was left with much to think about.

It did not take long for the rebels to begin making their home inside and outside the temple. One room was set aside to care for Nasir, or any other wounded that might be in need of it in the future. An elderly woman, who had been slave to a medicus, used what resources she had to tend to Nasir's wound. The quick action of sealing the open wound with the heated blade of a sword had saved the young Syrian's life so far, but he was not out of danger yet. His youth, strong spirit, and healthy body aided, but he still needed close attention. He was given a concoction to help him sleep, staving off the pain that could not be avoided. Naevia watched over Nasir with tender care. She was there when Agron came to check on Nasir's condition.

Agron saw that he had been right. The woman who stood at Nasir's side, washing the sweat from his feverish body, was not the Naevia that Agron knew from their days at the ludus. When he tried to thank her for what she was doing to help Nasir, He was met by bitterness that she could not conceal. She blamed herself for Nasir's condition and when Agron proclaimed that he had tried to stop them, she let him know that she wished he had done more. He had to tell her that Crixus would not be swayed, nor any of the others. Before more could be said, Mira arrived with a summons from Spartacus. Gently running his hand down Nasir's cheek and whispering, "Fight, little man," to the unconscious youth, Agron hurried away.

When Agron and Mira reached Spartacus, he sat deep in thought, watching his people as they cleaned up the surrounding courtyard. He wasted little time in passing on an idea that had begun brewing as soon as he discovered the fate of Crixus and others, added to the bragging of Glaber that the revolt was all but squashed. He would not let his men die in the arena. His plan was madness, but Agron remembered his earlier vow. He would support any decision Spartacus made no matter the cost. And if the gods were merciful, they would all return from their foolhardy mission to the joy of those left behind. And if they were truly feeling generous, he would return to find Nasir firmly among the living once more.

The night grew long as the rebels prepared themselves for their march towards Capua. Even though the hour was very late, no one slept. Word had spread of Spartacus's plans. Few believed it was so. As they prepared to embark on their rescue mission, Nasir appeared, moving slowly towards them, asking where they were going. Agron rushed to meet him, his voice calling the young man's name. He made a quick scan to assure himself that Nasir was not bleeding or in pain. The very thing that had attracted Agron to Nasir was still very much alive in the young man. Walking carefully, he still called for a sword so that he could join them. He barely heard Spartacus's refusal to let him go because Agron was now beside him, his hand gently holding his face.

"This time you stay, and I go," Agron told him. But this was not the thing that brought joy to Nasir's heart. Without thinking or questioning why he felt the need to, Agron leaned forward and placed a soft kiss upon Nasir's lips. It was but a moment in time, and without force or passion, but that brief gesture was full of a promise that Agron had every intention of fulfilling. Nasir was his friend, yet much more than that. Agron would never deny it, to himself or anyone else.

Before leaving with his carefully chosen crew, Spartacus set the record straight. He left no doubt as to what they were going to do and why. Those left behind would wait for word of success or failure. If their leaders did not return, those remaining would be shown the way to freedom by Lucius. The small band of ex-slaves felt a mixture of trepidation and thrill at the possible outcome of this bold move by their leader. As they shared their feelings, Spartacus and his chosen few left the confines of the temple and hastened on their way. By morning's light, they would need to be within the city of Capua, a town much hated by all.

Time moved much too slowly for Nasir. His body was still weak, but his mind was strong. He barely noticed the discomfort his injury caused him when he changed his position. Naevia had insisted he return to the room set aside for those in need of medical aid, despite his insistence that he was perfectly alright now. As he lay on his makeshift bed during the remainder of that first night, all he desired was to let his mind drift back to those brief moments when he felt the slight weight of Agron's lips on his. Nasir had felt drawn to Agron for some time before this night, but he dared not allow himself the privilege of voicing it. Agron treated him better than any of the others, but he knew that this did not have to carry any special meaning. Now Nasir realized that everything had changed in a blink of an eye.

Nasir rested, although not easily, all of the next day, because he wanted to be even stronger when Agron returned. Naevia kept him company for most of it. They spoke of their affection for their gladiators. Naevia talked of the dawning of her love affair with Crixus, and the price they both paid for it. Nasir spoke of his growing feelings for Agron, and how he was just now becoming aware that they were reciprocated. They both shared their fears that their future with their men would be cut short before it reached fruition. As night fell again, both of them knew that their men either lay dead in the arena or were on their way back to them. It was a night that seemed interminable. But as with all nights, it finally came to an end.

The sun had just risen high in the sky when shouts could be heard coming from the courtyard. Nasir rose from his bed and made his way towards the sounds. Even before he reached the entrance to the temple, he recognized Agron's voice above all others. Hearing it lightened his steps. He had never wanted to see the face of anyone more than he did his mighty warrior. As he reached the entrance, he recognized Agron standing and addressing the gathered crowd. He approached.

"You suffer no wound," Nasir stated, pride in his voice.

"The gods favor me, little man," Agron declared, a smile spreading over his face at the sight of Nasir.

"Call me that again, and they shall turn from you," Nasir promised, but with a laugh that Agron loved the sound of.

Then, as if they had been lovers for years, the two men reached for each other. Simultaneously they grabbed one another and brought their lips together. This kiss was like the first, and yet not. The first had caught Nasir by surprise. This time, there were no surprises...only mutual pleasure. But the courtyard was no place to share those feelings. Agron took Nasir by the hand and led him to the small room in the back of the temple that he had chosen for himself. As they entered the room, Agron posed a question to Nasir.

"I would share my bed with you, but choice is yours. You are no longer slave to any man, Nasir. If desire moves you to my arms, I welcome the embrace."

Nasir felt light-headed. This was even more than he had hoped for. His injury was forgotten as he walked into Agron's outstretched arms. Agron's hold was gentle at first, then tightened slightly. Nasir tried not to react, but an audible gasp escaped him. Agron instantly loosened his grip and pulled back.

"Apologies. I allowed desire to carry away thought. I meant no harm."

Nasir stepped back into Agron's embrace.

"Cleanse mind of such thoughts. My body is yet tender to touch, but my heart is eager for yours."

He sealed his words with another kiss. Agron tried mightily to restrain his rapidly growing ardor. If Nasir had healed completely, Agron knew he would not have been able to hold back his desires, but the thought of hurting Nasir further was sufficient for him to maintain a semblance of control. The kiss deepened. Breathing became labored. Nasir clung to Agron, tiny moans of delight escaping from his throat. Yet still Agron did not press his advantage. Finally, his manhood straining to be freed from its confines, Agron pulled away again, putting a short space between them.

"We must take pause. I will not be cause of your delayed recovery. I wish to see you whole again," Agron sighed.

"And when that day comes...?"

"The heavens will split open and the gods tremble, for they will feel the earth shake with the force of our coupling!"

"Proud words are noted," Nasir laughed.

"Not a boast, but a vow, Nasir," Agron promised.

Nasir smiled. "I know you to be a man of honor. You will not break your vow. Patience must be my duty, until I am strong again." Nasir then grinned. "Yet, a tiny taste for a starving man is better than an empty plate. I would have you allow me to share what little is possible."

As Nasir spoke these words, he reached down and began loosening his clothing. Agron could not take his eyes off Nasir's body as more of it became exposed with each passing second. Agron was so in awe of the beauty of Nasir's firm flesh and impressive manhood that he could not move. When Nasir was no longer clad in anything but the tight, clean bandage around his belly, he stepped up to Agron. With no words spoken and a gleam in his eye, he began helping the the tall German to an equal state of undress. Nasir then led Agron to the bed.

Nasir directed Agron to stretch out on the bedding. Agron lay on his back, his engorged cock resting stiffly against his belly. Nasir took up a position on the bedding with his head resting along Agron's muscular thighs, his feet alongside Agron's head. Nasir, being very careful to avoid putting too much pressure on his wound, leaned on his elbow and began placing tiny kisses along Agron's thigh, working his way to the center. When he reached his goal, his mouth opened wide and he sucked the head of Agron's cock inside. Agron's head jerked up and he let out a loud groan.

Nasir's grin widened. He had been his master's primary body slave for barely a year, but it was long enough for him to learn the ways of a man's body. But even so, he knew this was different. Before this night he knew of the physical part of sex, but nothing of lovemaking...the part of sex that included the heart. As he worked his tongue and lips around Agron's manhood, he felt his heart swell with something far more powerful than mere lust. All he wanted was for Agron to feel the same thing he was feeling. He prayed he was succeeding. Nasir's hands and mouth stayed the course, working steadily to bring Agron as much pleasure as possible while avoiding any damage to his wound. He knew that Agron would blame himself if the wound bled.

Agron wanted to touch Nasir more than anything as he felt his blood stirring and his heart beating faster and faster, but he knew he must not do so. His rapidly growing passion could overtake him and he might hurt Nasir. It was too soon. He also knew that this was Nasir's gift to him. He would repay his young lover with a matching gift when the time was right, but now he would simply revel in what he was being given. Agron held off his release for as long as he could, not wanting the feeling of Nasir's touch to come to an end, but eventually he could hold no longer. With a vocal call of 'Fuck, fuck, fuck', Agron orgasmed with a strength he had never felt before. He fell back on his cushions and waited for Nasir to join him, feeling his muscles still contracting from the intensity of his release. Moments later, Nasir lay beside him, with his head resting in the crook of Agron's arm. Agron turned on his side and placed tender kisses over Nasir's face, neck, shoulders, and chest.

Agron gazed lovingly into Nasir's eyes. "I fear the taste you gave only makes me hunger for more, but you spoke wisely. I knew not that I was a starving man until you offered me food of the gods. Now we rest. I will meet with Spartacus later and again propose finding fighting men at the port of Neapolis. It is where the slave traders vomit out their cargo of captured warriors, as they did my brother and I."

"And when your work is done, you will return to our bed?"

"You are a part of me, Nasir. I shall always return to you," Agron answered, pleased that Nasir already thought of his bed as theirs.

And so it came to pass. They shared their bed and their lives from that day forward...separated only briefly, as with all soldiers in war, when circumstances demanded it. Yet even during partings, their hearts beat as one until they beat no longer.

The End


End file.
